Trickster's Child
by Zeada
Summary: Young Emilia Harkley has nothing. No mother, no father, no home. What is she to do when taken in by the god of mischief and lies, and why does he seem so familiar?
1. Prologue

If there was anything in the world that could describe Emilia Harkley's life it would be a rather humourously written book, _A Series of Unfortunate Events_. Although, nothing about the past year and a half was humourous to Emilia, nor did she have an eccentric Count Olaf to take her in. Her mother died in a violent car accident, she had never known her father, her grandparents wanted nothing to do with her, and she'd been in fifteen foster homes so far.

The teen sighed under her breath. Her new foster family had dragged her to a rather extravagant party in Stuttgart, Germany. A rather extravagant party that Emilia was miserable at. After being rather patronizingly that she should "stay put and behave," Emilia decided that disobeying and wandering around was more fun than standing awkwardly near the middle of the room.

She hadn't realized that she had not been paying attention to her surroundings until she collided with someone. The force of the blow was enough to send her backwards and in danger of tumbling down the stone staircase until a strong hand grasped hers. Emilia's green eyes widened as she was pulled back up onto her feet.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, finally making eye contact with both her saviour and the man who almost caused her to end up in the emergency room. He was pale, like she was, had slicked back black hair that frayed out at the edges; his eyes were a haunting blue. There was something else Emilia had noted. He looked…ill. His cheekbones were sunken in like he hadn't been fed in months, and dark circles lined the undersides of his eyes.

"You are staring, Child," the man spoke. Emilia blushed in embarrassment and pulled her wrist from his grasp.

"Thanks for saving me," she muttered.

"It was no trouble," he replied smoothly.

"I'm Emilia Harkley," she introduced, holding her hand out for him to shake. The man took her hand before leaning down to kiss her knuckles. _Freak,_ Emilia thought, arching an eyebrow.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Harkley," he said with a smirk. Emilia's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Where had she seen that smirk before? "My name is Loki."

* * *

Loki's mind was focused on the mission at hand. Steal the iridium using Dr. Heinrich Schäfer's eye and get out. Maybe make a small speech before leaving, but only maybe. There was no way he could have noticed the child coming up the stairs at the same time he was going down. One: she was rather short, he estimated about 5'6". Two: his mind was far too focused to notice so trivial a thing.

He did notice her, however, when they collided. He reached forward, grabbing her rather bony wrist, stopping her fall. No need to make a scene. She apologized politely then took a moment to rudely stare at him.

The girl was pale, like himself, with black hair that just reached past the nape of her neck, and vibrant green eyes. Young, so innocent, but not so innocent to escape unscathed by the horrors of this cruel world.

"You are staring, Child," he told her calmly. She blushed, having been found out, and Loki repressed a smirk.

"Thanks for saving me," she muttered, embarrassment still apparent on her features.

"It was no trouble," Loki replied smoothly.

"I'm Emilia Harkley," she announced, holding her hand out to him. Emilia, Loki thought, one of the only Midgardian names he could stand. He leaned down and kissed her knuckles, as he was taught on Asgard. _Freak, _Loki heard in her mind.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Harkley," he smirked. Harkley… where had he heard that name before? It sounded rather familiar. "My name is Loki." Emilia looked confused.

"Loki?" she asked. "That's an…um…odd…name…" Loki chuckled with a shake of his head.

"Things are going to get quite messy here, Emilia," he mused, leading her down the staircase. "Make a wise decision and run. Run away from here, Child." Emilia stared at him curiously.

"What's about to happen?" she asked guardedly. Loki let out a frustrated sigh.

"Run, Child." Emilia warily took his advice, and escaped the imminent chaos.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know that it's bad. It's only the prologue so I'm allowing it to be short, but the other chapters will be longer, don't worry. This is my first time writing for _Avengers _and Loki, so I'm sorry if he's out of character DX Anyways please review. **


	2. Chapter 1

_One year later…_

"You brat! You're more trouble than you're worth!" Emilia thrashed as a hand fisted itself in her hair. "OUT!" The teen was unceremoniously flung out of the open door and tumbled down the front steps. Her backpack landed on top of her and she let out a groan of pain. Concrete was not fun to land on. She felt her eyelids closing.

"Well, I can honestly say I've slept on the streets now…" she murmured with a yawn.

* * *

_"Mama," a four-year-old Emilia said, crawling up onto her mother's bed. "Where's Daddy?" Emilia's mother, a young red-haired woman, dropped her shoulders in defeat. She was so hoping that she could avoid this question. Innocent green eyes stared at her, expecting an answer. _

_ "Em, Honey," the woman began, holding her arms out for her daughter. Emilia crawled into her mother's lap and looked up at her. _

_ "Where is he, Mama? Why doesn't Daddy come home?" The woman smiled sadly. _

_ "Your Daddy is very far away, Emilia. Mama hasn't seen him since before you were born," she replied. _

_ "Why hasn't he come back, though? Daddy loves Mama, right?" Emilia asked. _

_ "It's…it's very complicated, Emilia." _

_ "But daddies are supposed to love mamas," Emilia protested. "Why doesn't Daddy love Mama?!" Tears brimmed the corners of the toddler's eyes, threatening to spill over. "Mama…Mama loves Daddy, right?" she questioned softly. _

_ "Yes, I love your father very much, Emilia." _

_ "What was Daddy like?" The woman chuckled. _

_ "Well," she began, thinking a bit, "your father was very hard to get to know, but once he decided to open up, he was gentle. He was strong and very protective. He loved to play tricks on people—"_

_ "Like me!" Emilia interjected. _

_ "Yes, like you." _

_ "Daddy was at least nice to you, right?" _

_ "After a while," the woman replied. "He was very mean to me at first and didn't want me to help him." _

_ "Why was he mean?" _

_ The woman sighed. "Your father was hurt when I first met him and acted a lot like a wounded animal."_

_ "What's that mean?" _

_ "It means that he was hurt, but didn't want anybody to help him."_

* * *

Emilia awoke to something hard making contact with her back. She gasped in pain and heard a stream of curse words not too far ahead of her. The man who had tripped over her stood and glared down at her. _Tall… _Emilia thought with a shiver of fear. _Really, really tall…_

"What do you think you are doing, Child?" he asked venomously.

_Oh, hey, it's the guy from Germany! _Emilia stood, holding her back where she had been kicked. "I was sleeping," she replied with a smirk.

"In the middle of the street?" Emilia nodded. The man arched an eyebrow. "And why, may I ask?"

"I got thrown out of foster care, quite literally," Emilia informed with a shrug. "Are you still gathering up an army, by the way?"

"Why do you wish to know, Child?"

"My name is Emilia. E-mi-li-a, and I need somewhere to stay." The man sighed.

"And what makes you think that I will take you in, _Emilia_?" he asked, towering over her.

_Tall…_ Emilia mentally whimpered. "Because—"

"Do you not have a mother? A father? Some other family that you could pester?" he questioned.

"No," Emilia replied harshly.

"No?"

"My mother died in a car accident when I was fourteen. I have never had the privilege of knowing my father, I doubt he even knows I exist. My grandparents disowned my mother when she told them that she was pregnant. I was _just _kicked out of my sixth foster home this year, my third this month, and probably won't be allowed back in the system because I'm too much of a problem child. So, no, I _don't _have anyone to go to. I'm all alone in this world, no family, no friends; no one who will take me in." When she had finished, she noticed that she was crying. She was all alone. No one wanted her. She was the one child who was always thrown to the curb.

* * *

Loki sighed internally. The emotion he saw the teen's eyes was borderline heartbreaking. He saw anger, he saw pain; he saw such an intense self-loathing. No, taking in the child would be too risky, but leaving her out in the cold streets would be inhumane. Loki's brow drew together in confusion. Since when did _he _care about what was humane or not? The child was silent, staring at the ground. He assumed she was trying to hide her tears from him.

"Come, Child," he addressed, turning on his heel. He glanced over his shoulder and let out a frustrated sigh when he saw her staring dumbfounded at him. "Have you gone deaf? I said, 'come, Child.'" He smirked when she jogged up to him. He could sense that she was shocked that he actually took her in.

Aside from her self-loathing, Emilia carried herself in a way similar to a spirited Midgardian Loki had met some sixteen years ago. Now that he thought about it, wasn't her name also Harkley? He shook his head, merely a coincidence.

After he had escaped from Asgard he acquired a rather spacious condo, nothing less for a prince. He noticed that Emilia's walking had slowed down. "What is wrong?" he asked, thinking he'd hurt her when he tripped over her.

"Nothing," Emilia replied with a yawn. "I'm just really tired…" Loki rolled his eyes.

After some time, and Emilia almost falling asleep walking, the two finally reached Loki's home. The two didn't speak to each other and when Loki showed Emilia to her room, she kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed.

"My room is just down the hall," he told her and Emilia sleepily nodded, pulling the duvet around her. "Do not enter my room unless I give you permission, is that understood?" She nodded again. "All right, then."

"Goodnight, Loki," Emilia muttered softly, stopping Loki's exit.

"…Goodnight."

After ascertaining that Emilia was indeed sound asleep, Loki retired to his room. What in the name of Odin had possessed him to take in a child, a _teenager _nonetheless? What did he know of children? Sure, he had six, but most of his children were dead and those that were not he was not allowed to raise. He ran a hand through his hair. Was it because he felt sorry for her? Why that, though? She said it herself—or maybe she had thought it, he wasn't sure—she had no one. She was all alone, left to face this horrible world with no protection.

Did he see himself in her, he wondered? Did he see some minuscule amount of himself in this poor, pitiful child? What has he gotten himself into?

* * *

Emilia bolted awake, tears brimming her eyes. "Mom…" she whimpered. Flashing back to a car crash is not a nightmare by normal standards, but by Emilia's it was hell. It was the last time that she'd seen her mother alive. After that social services showed up and carted the young Harkley into the system and she missed her own mother's funeral. She didn't even know where the woman was buried.

Emilia slowly climbed out of bed and made her way into the living room. Asking Loki if she could sleep with him would probably _not _be the best choice. Ever since she was little she had had this weird habit of not being able to sleep in the same room as the one she'd had a nightmare in. She lay on the leather couch, thinking back to her mother.

Emilia's mother, Isabelle Harkley, was working on her medical doctorate when Emilia was born. The teen vaguely remembered her mother juggling shifts at the hospital, school, and raising her. How she did it, Emilia might never know, but her mom did it. Her eyes felt heavy, and Emilia allowed sleep to claim her once more.

* * *

Loki had not realized he had fallen asleep until he awoke to sunlight attempting to stream into the room from the curtains he all but bolted to the wall. With a yawn, the trickster heaved himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. Ever since his escape, he had become fond of coffee, finding the caffeine useful at times. After successfully making a pot of coffee, he made his way into the living room, cup of caffeine in hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked the sleeping teenager, hoping that she'd wake up and listen to him. She didn't. All he got was a moan and a body rolling over. For a brief moment, he considered pouring the hot coffee on the child, but that would be a waste of perfectly good coffee and last he checked, children didn't take to kindly to being scorched at—he glanced at the clock—11 A.M. Loki let out a sigh and reluctantly set down his cup. Picking up the girl, he carried her back to her bedroom and left her to sleep, not even bothering to tuck her in.

* * *

When Emilia awoke again, the sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom windows. Bedroom? Emilia sat up, noticing that she was lying atop the blankets and in the guest room. She made her way to the living room, finding Loki sitting on the couch sipping on a cup of coffee. "Good morning," she muttered with a yawn. Loki merely nodded, barely acknowledging her presence. _Definitely _not _a morning person, then. _Emilia thought with a smirk. Time to have some fun.

She plopped down on the couch next to Loki. He gave her a sideways glance before taking another gulp of coffee. "So," she began, grinning at him, "what's in store for today?" she inquired. Loki scowled and picked up a newspaper. _Oh, so he's going to ignore me, is he? _"You know, we teenagers get bored very easily. Maybe you should buy me an XBOX or something. Some TV shows on DVD. A deck of cards. You know, something to keep me occupied." She was trying so hard to keep her grin at Loki's obvious annoyance hidden. "Ooh, there's something I've _always _wanted to do! You've got magic, right? So you can teleport, right?" She didn't even bother waiting for an answer, she just continued talking. "Visiting France would be so much fun!" she exclaimed.

Loki stood, not saying a word, and walked into the kitchen, where he muttered something about coffee not being strong enough. Whatever that meant. "Hey! Hey! Loki! Guess what." Loki stood in the kitchen's entryway, an eyebrow raised at the teen.

"What?" he asked coldly.

"I love you!" Emilia chirped, biting her lip at Loki turning on his heel and opening a cabinet. "What's that?" Emilia asked when Loki returned to the living room, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a glass bottle in the other.

"Alcohol," he replied, downing the glass in one gulp.

"It's only noon, why are you drinking?"

"To get you to shut up." Emilia snickered and Loki's grip around his glass tightened to the point where shards went everywhere. "Child," he began slowly, "are you intentionally trying to anger me?" he growled.

"Oh, come on, Loki," Emilia said, leaning back on the arm of the couch. "It was just a bit of fun, really." Loki's eye twitched. Was it too late to return the child? He picked up the bottle and retrieved another glass from the kitchen. "Aw, where are you going, Loki?" Emilia asked, seeing Loki making his way towards his bedroom.

SLAM!

Emilia flinched, figuring that the wall received some damage. Oh, well. She hopped over the back of the couch and began to scour for a broom. She found it an hour later and cleaned up the glass that Loki had shattered. With her entertainment locked in his room with a bottle of alcohol, what was Emilia to do now? Sleep? She wasn't tired, though… She wondered what kinds of books Loki owned.

She discovered that the condo actually had three bedrooms, one of them converted into a study of sorts. Emilia began browsing the shelves, carefully picking out a leather bound book. She opened it and frowned. "What's he got books written in Elven for?" she asked. _How the crap am I supposed to read this?! _

"They're called Runes," came a voice from the doorway. Emilia yelped and dropped the book, the leather tome clattering on the floor. Loki strode into the room and picked up the book. "It's a good thing you _can't _read it," he spoke, eyeing her. "You opened it up on a necromantic spell."

"Are you drunk?" Emilia asked, noticing Loki's eyes were bloodshot.

"Slightly." Loki placed the book on a higher shelf, out of Emilia's reach. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm bored." Loki let out a groan.

"Read that," he said, grabbing a random book off of a shelf.

"The dictionary?" Emilia asked, glancing up at Loki. He said nothing but walked out of the room. Emilia sighed and sat down on the floor, opening up the dictionary.

After another few hours, Emilia's stomach growled. She read the last word and closed the book, happy to be done with that. She couldn't believe that she had just read the entire dictionary. The _entire_ dictionary. Emilia walked out of the study and looked around for Loki. He wasn't in the living room, that left only his bedroom. She knocked on the door. "Loki," she called. "Loki… I'm hungry…"

* * *

Loki let out a moan and buried his head under his pillow. Whatever that noise was, it needed to stop. He caught the tail end of the word _hungry_. Oh, crap. Children get hungry. Children such as Emilia. He shot up and pulled open the door.

"I want food," was what he was greeted with.

"Yes, yes, I know. You have to eat," Loki muttered, pushing past her. He scoured the cabinets for something, anything for the child to eat. Nothing in the refrigerator that she could eat, nothing in the cabinets, and nothing on the counter. How did _he _last this long without food?

"Hey, Loki," Emilia called. "What do you want from the Chinese place?" Loki almost ripped the cabinet door off of its hinges.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm ordering take out," Emilia replied, rolling her eyes. "What do you want?" Loki sighed.

"Just get me whatever you are eating," he said, waving his hand at her. Emilia sighed and dialed the number to order food.

"Give me money," she said, holding her hand out.

"I may not have raised children before, but I do know that that is a little rude," Loki replied.

"I need to pay the delivery guy," Emilia said, exasperated. "Give me money." Loki sighed and pulled out his wallet.

"How much?"

"Thirty." Loki handed her the money and Emilia waited patiently by the door for the food to show up. It took about twenty minutes for the food to arrive and another five to get Loki to actually eat his. After Emilia had finished her dinner, she got up from the table, which surprisingly Loki had insisted on eating at, and announced that she was getting a shower. Loki had grunted in reply and Emilia left the man to his own devices.

* * *

Maybe taking the child in was a very bad idea, Loki thought, staring at where the teen had once been. Was he really capable of taking care of her? Why was it he took her in again? Maybe because he'd heard the name Harkley before? But where? He barely remembered the last year, let alone anything before that. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, dishelving it.

Emilia awoke to bright rays of sunlight filtering into the room. Even though she wasn't normally coherent in the morning, she did notice it was just a tad bit too bright outside to be seven o' clock in the morning. She groped around for a clock, and finding none in her room, she dragged herself out of bed and into the living room. She let out a yawn and froze when she saw the time on the grandfather clock.

11:48.

"Loki!" she called, running to his room and knocking. She knocked a few more times and when she still faced with no answer, she threw the door open and stared.

There was Loki, curled under the covers, fast asleep. Emilia let out a sigh of frustration and shook his shoulder. He whined like a child and rolled over. "_Loki…_" Emilia whined in reply. "Wake up…"

"What are you doing in here, Emilia?" he moaned sleepily. He sat up and yawned, managing a glare. "I thought I told you not to enter unless you had permission."

"Screw your rule! I have school! And I was supposed to be there _three hours ago_!" Emilia snapped. Loki stared at her blankly before huddling up under the covers once more.

"Too bad for you." Emilia ripped the blanket away from him.

"You are my guardian now! Which means it's _your _responsibility to get me to and from school! I can't drive and I don't have a car! It's all on you if I fail the eleventh grade!" she yelled.

"Child, you sound angry, go back to sleep." Emilia did almost exactly what he did yesterday, turned on her heel silently and walked out of the room. Loki blinked sleepily at the door before retrieving his fallen sheets and closing his eyes again. It was too good to be true. She actually left him alone.

"Don't forget, I have school five days a week. Wake me up at six tomorrow." As his door shut again, Loki clenched his hands into fists to control his anger. The child had broken his one rule. Why did he take her in? Now he has to take her to school, and be awake at six o' clock in the morning. Doesn't the child realize that's when he goes to sleep?

Tomorrow was certainly going to be interesting.

* * *

**Whoo! Update! I want to thank everyone who reviewed and followed. As always, Emilia belongs to me, Loki doesn't. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, here's an update for y'all! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited, and followed. **

* * *

"…lia…" Emilia moaned in her sleep and rolled over. "Emilia…" Whoever was calling her was getting frustrated. Emilia snuggled farther into the plush mattress. "Emilia Harkley!" Emilia shot up as the duvet was ripped off of her body.

"No…" she whined, reaching in vain for the warm cover. "Give it back…" Loki glared at her, a rather terrifying sight if Emilia wasn't so sleepy.

"Emilia, it's time to get up," Loki said through gritted teeth. Emilia vaguely wondered how long he had been trying to wake her up. Loki threw the duvet at her and stormed out of the room. Emilia began to sluggishly get ready for the day, pulling a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt out of her bag. She would ask Loki to take her shopping one of these days. On a day when he didn't want to kill her.

* * *

"Loki?" Emilia asked tentatively. "Will you take me to school?" Loki glanced up from the paper he was trying to read. He had read _and in light of recent events _about six times now.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I need you to take me to school," Emilia repeated, more assertive this time. Loki nodded and grabbed what Emilia could only guess to be car keys from a side table. "You can drive?" she inquired, a black eyebrow arching quizzically.

"A long time ago someone taught me how," Loki answered.

"Who?" Emilia asked. Loki thought for a moment.

"I don't remember."

"And you expect me to believe that you remember how to drive?"

* * *

"Red! Red! The light's red!" Emilia shrieked, clutching at the handle above the door. The rather expensive sedan lurched to a sudden halt and Emilia whimpered. This was the fourth light Loki had almost fallen asleep at. The last three only turned green by sheer luck, or Emilia's panicky influence. When scared she had quite an effect on things. Like the fact that a stop sign just burst into flames. _Oops. _

Loki yawned and glanced tiredly at the teenager. "How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen…" she answered warily. "Green light!" The car was traveling at a more comfortable speed now…until… "Loki, you're doing eighty in a forty-five, and there's a stop sign ahead. Loki! Stop sign!" The car, once again stopped abruptly and Emilia screamed.

By the time they had reached her school, Emilia was over half an hour late. "You're here. Have a nice day." Loki had leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"If I'm more than five minutes late you have to sign me in." No response. "Loki," Emilia huffed. Nothing. "Loki…" She poked his arm. Still nothing. "Loki!" She shoved him as hard as a scrawny 110 pound girl could. It did jerk him awake, though.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"If I'm more than five minutes late you have to sign me in," Emilia repeated with a frustrated sigh. Loki muttered some word in what sounded like Norwegian—Emilia was positive it was one she shouldn't repeat—and stepped out of the car.

"Wait!" she called, jogging to catch up with him. "People might recognize you, genius, you are on the world's most wanted list." Loki waved his hand and a pair of glasses materialized on his face.

"Better?" he asked and Emilia giggled.

"Oh, yeah, you're a regular Clark Kent now." She rolled her eyes and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.

"Who?" Loki asked, staring quizzically at her.

"Oh yeah, I forgot, pop culture references are lost on you." She balked when the doors finally came into view. She shuffled nervously when Loki stared at her. "C-could you at least pretend that you like me, you know, not like the others?" Loki shrugged and opened the door for her.

"Lead the way." Emilia managed a crooked smile and trekked inside.

The office lady, Mrs. Crutch, stared at Emilia through her horn-rimmed glasses. "Tardy again, Miss Harkley?"

"Ah, I do believe that was my fault." Mrs. Crutch gazed from Emilia to Loki and her eyes widened. "Emilia has just entered my care, and I must regret that work kept me up all night and I over slept. She will be punctual tomorrow, rest assured. Now, goodbye, sweetheart; I'll see you at three." Loki smiled warmly and kissed Emilia's cheek before exiting the school building.

Emilia snatched the tardy slip from Mrs. Crutch's long and ostentatiously bright nails before heading to class.

* * *

The day continued as any other day did. The teachers hated Emilia and gave her the most work, the students avoided her, and Loki forgot her. Emilia sighed as four o' clock rolled around.

"Your new old man ditch you?" Emilia cringed when the voice reached her ears. It was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays the football team practiced until four. Which meant they had renewed energy and someone to take it out on. "You gonna answer me, Harkley?" Emilia shrugged and felt herself lifted off of the ground. "You even listenin' to me?" Emilia did the stupidest thing she could have possibly done and answered:

"No."

Emilia grimaced as her back hit the dumpster. In terms of bullying, Emilia was pretty easy prey. Small, in foster care, orphaned, and a bastard. Emilia deflected the first blow. And by deflected, I mean her wrist took most of the blow. Emilia was pretty sure she'd heard something crack. The second hit her sternum and the third hit her stomach. After that, they got bored and left.

"Have fun sleeping with the trash! It's where you belong, Harkley!" Emilia wiped a stray tear. Whether it was from physical or emotional pain, she didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted to get home. If she could call it that.

* * *

Common sense told her that stopping at the hospital was a good idea. Survival said it wasn't. After a long battle, common sense and a need for painkillers won out and Emilia was sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital.

"Emilia, what are you doing here, baby?" Emilia looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. The voice of the only doctor she'd let touch her. The woman standing before her was her mother's best friend, Stacy Hannigan.

"I think my wrist is broken," Emilia muttered, holding up the offending hand. Her right one. Stacy sighed.

"Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up." Stacy led Emilia to an examination room and glared. "What happened this time? Was it over a boy?" Emilia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Definitely not a habit you got from your mama," Stacy would say.

"Boys don't like me, you know that. I'm not pretty enough for them…" Stacy turned on Emilia.

"Don't ever talk like that! You are the most beautiful girl I've ever known, save for your mother, God rest her soul. You are gorgeous, Emilia, don't you ever doubt that." Stacy smoothed Emilia's hair down and wiped a few tears.

"What about my dad?" Stacy stiffened in a way that Emilia's mother always had. The tenseness that was only there when Emilia asked about her father.

"Well, I never met him, but all I know was that he had to be a smooth talker and a nice-lookin' young man to get your mama to fall for him the way she did." Emilia always knew that her mother loved her father and it didn't take her long to work out that the love was one-sided.

Fathers who love their daughters stay.

"I'm gonna have to put it in a cast," Stacy sighed, her Mississippi accent still ever-present.

"No!" Emilia shrieked and a glass vase shattered. Stacy was used to it by now. Emilia got scared and things exploded. That was just the way things worked.

"Fine, no cast, but I am putting that in a brace." Emilia nodded and watched as Stacy wrapped the black brace around her wrist. "Don't move it around too much now." Emilia nodded again and jumped off of the table. It was time to walk home, something Emilia wasn't too keen on doing, but it had to be done.

"What about the money?" Emilia asked softly. Stacy smiled and ruffled the teen's hair.

"I got that covered, sugar, you run on home now."

* * *

It was almost eight when Emilia stepped into the condo. Loki jerked awake at the sound of the door slamming. "What time is it?" he muttered groggily.

"Almost eight."

"How long did it take you to get here?" Loki asked as he sat up.

"About two hours."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No." _Yes. _

"What happened to your wrist?" Emilia glared.

"Carpal tunnel," she lied. Loki arched an eyebrow. It was obvious he'd never heard of carpal tunnel. "Just a wrist thing, don't worry, I'll be fine."

"…Are you hungry?" Loki asked as she was walking away. Emilia stopped and shook her head.

"I'm just going to go to sleep," she mumbled and retreated into her bedroom. Loki stared at the door long after it was closed. After about two minutes, he got up and paced.

"No, no, I can't be getting soft," he muttered to himself. This was ridiculous. He was acting almost…paternal. Loki cringed at the word. There were many things that Loki Laufeyson was—god of mischief and lies, a Frost Giant, even at times sentimental—but a father was not one of them.

His feet were soon leading him in the direction of Emilia's room. His mind was screaming that they should stop, turn around and read the newspaper. He opened the bedroom door and peered inside. "Emilia?" he questioned softly. Nothing. He realized that she really must have gone to sleep. Emilia's wrist was cradled against her chest and there were tear stains on her cheeks. Whatever carpal tunnel was, it seemed very painful.

He reached for her forehead to brush her hair away and jerked his hand back. He shook his head. What was he becoming? Loki walked out of the room and closed the door. He wanted somewhere to think. Somewhere he could be alone. He guessed the study was as good as anything. So he locked himself in the room and fell asleep not much longer.

* * *

Emilia moaned when she awoke. She had never been in so much pain. Her stomach felt awful and she wondered if she could even eat. She unfurled her wrist from her chest and screamed. She screamed again when Loki poofed into her room.

"Are you all right?" he asked, glancing over her. "What happened?" Emilia sniffled and clutched her hand to her chest. Loki glared. "Emilia show me." Emilia shook her head. "Emilia!" Loki snapped. Emilia whimpered and slowly stretched her arm out. Loki slowly pulled the cloth brace off before gingerly touching her wrist. Emilia was honestly surprised to see him being so gentle. That is, until he applied a bit of pressure to her wrist. She screamed.

"I'm not sure what 'carpal tunnel' is, but I am positive it's not a broken wrist," Loki chastised, sending another glare at Emilia. Emilia shrunk slightly under his gaze. A green glow emanated from his hand and she felt her bones shifting back together. She rolled her wrist, testing that it worked properly. Loki tossed the brace away with a frustrated huff. "Go back to sleep." The lights turned off and Emilia could only flinch when Loki slammed the door.

"Thank you…" she whispered softly, knowing that he hadn't heard her. She curled up under the white duvet and closed her eyes. Maybe this time she could have a dad…

* * *

Loki was sitting in the study, listening to the ticking of the clock. Why? That question seemed to be running around in his mind a lot. Why? Why did he take the child in? Why was he becoming so compassionate? Why did he heal her? Why? Why? Why?! He let out a frustrated growl and pulled at his hair, dishelving it.

Why couldn't he remember?

This was all wrong! He tried to conquer this world, and that was what he was doing now, wasn't it? He began to think he was hiding. Hiding from the thing that had found him, broken and alone on some desolate realm. The thing that had turned broken into hateful. Loki shuddered involuntarily.

What would happen to Emilia? Loki froze, wanting to rid the question from his mind. Emilia. Emilia. The name repeated itself inside his head, over and over again. He had said before, years ago. He had told someone of his affinity for the name. Bits and pieces of the memory came to light.

* * *

__ laughed. "There has to be at least one Midgardian name you like." She—at least, Loki thought the voice was female—leaned over the back of what he assumed to be a couch. _

_ "Emilia," he replied, smiling at the female. He was much younger, his brow had yet to be creased by worry, the only lines on his face laugh lines. To humans, he would appear to be about twenty-four. The woman's long hair fell over her shoulders. Was it red? Or maybe brown? Loki couldn't tell, she was too blurred. _

_ "Emilia? It is a beautiful name," she agreed. "So I take it you want a daughter?" Loki guessed she was smiling. Her tone sounded like it. _

_ "I never said that, I only said that I liked the name Emilia," Loki rebutted smartly. The woman huffed. _

_ "You're so difficult!" He could tell that she was still happy. _

_ The weird thing was, he seemed happy too._

* * *

"Who was that?" he asked himself, laying his head in his hands. He couldn't deny that there was something he saw in Emilia's eyes; something he hadn't seen in a long time. Hope. Hope that she could have a father. Something he knew she hadn't ever had before. Not a real one anyways.

A father. Something Loki regretted he couldn't give her.


End file.
